Search the Community

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Depictions of non-consent and other forced actions of a sexual or other type of encounter Emasculation and feminization through various means and to differnt ends Degredation of human anatomy and mental status This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back and I hope everyone had as good of a break as I did! Work was stressful as usual these days, but it’s always nice to get away for a little bit from trying to meet my own personal deadlines, especially after such a large project as my last few stories were with some requiring all the completely new world-building and whatnot. Now, though, it’s just as equally good to be back and writing stories again. Unlike my previous story, due to how the system works here, I needed to be very precise in calculating everything out before I wrote a single word down. That being said, some of these chapters have proven to be temperamental and don’t quite make the page count I thought they were going to or are entirely too long for a single one. So, right now, the total chapter count stands at 27, but this is subject to change. Some of the later chapters are mapped out precisely as they are and won’t change, but some of the chapters in the middle may need to be altered or fleshed out to give more growth to these characters here. Which I guess is all to say that if the final tally of chapters changes at all, I will let you all know. Now, as much joy as I’ve derived from this story so far, I need to mention two caveats. First, I have based this story on a CYOA I found years ago. I’ve looked for the creator for at least five years now, but no such luck. I have also modified it for the story a little, but the concept is still there. Also, I should point out that because of some of the themes here, it will be a little coarser and more mature. I will try to give out warnings before some of the more intense scenes, but be warned, this one is not all fluffy diapers and pink princesses. Next, as is typical these days, I will post the next poll at the start of the following chapter. Looking ahead, I already know that this concept will be a one-off story, so there will not be a sequel in its future. With that in mind, the next poll will contain one DD story and two others that are a little more on the supernatural/spooky side. Because of this, I might try to put out more than three chapters a week and I might take a shorter break, but I think the stories are interesting enough on their own and plus, they have never been shown in one of my polls before. So, be on the lookout for all that next. Also, looking ahead, I’m absolutely tasking myself with writing/editing at least three chapters a week. That being said, with 27 current chapters and at least three a week, this will definitively bump into about mid-October, which means that I will be pausing at least at one point for a multi-day vacation. Once again, I’m headed down to Florida, but this time, it will be for some Halloween-themed events, so you just never know what twisted or fantastical tales I might come back with for new story ideas, so take comfort in the delay with the prospect of at least other future stories from me. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: Starting Off, 35-01 Blindfold. Gag. My hands are behind my back and tied with something… rope, I think. The truck I saw for a brief second before getting hustled up into it has a rusty axel that’s connected to a suspension that bounces heavily each time that we hit a pothole or some other ungodly bump in the road. The sound of cars, machinery… even people… all that vanished at least three hours ago now. In the back of the canvas-drawn over truck, I can feel the intense heat rise all around me as each hour passes and the day creeps on. Thinking back, though, despite my current circumstances, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that this is where I ended up… but really, I just wanted a job again. * * * The suited man opens the door for me and gestures inside. I look and blink a few times at the sparseness of what I’m seeing inside the hole that is the room he is gesturing to. “You’re kidding, right?” The older gentleman glares at me from his at least six inches above me. “No. You want the help… you go inside. No questions asked and you follow the instructions… or you’re out. No exceptions.” I wince a little and even turn around to view the door I just came from. I recite over in my head how to make a quit exit in case I need to. ‘Three lefts, down one floor, and through the main lobby and the security there and then out the front doors.’ There, it would be freedom and the life I had… rather than a barren room of unknown before me. But I also know what’s out there waiting for me beyond those front doors. The world sucks for people in my position, and my pride went out the window the first time another bill came in without the funds to fully back even one or two more of them. Simply put… I’m desperate. So, with a deep plunging breath, I go forward into the room. Once inside, with a sigh, I sit in the far metal chair with my back to a mirror… likely a two-way like an interrogation room. I feel the hair stand up on my neck and a growl inside my stomach… warning me to run, but these people have me cornered with the prospect of opportunity. So, even as the main door closes to this little barren room, I can really only just sit there and squash my horrid feelings deep down. Now alone with my thoughts and trying not to assume or think the worst-case scenario, I look around the room and try and check if this is some trick or a test of some kind. ‘No… no hidden messages on the walls… no pen or paper. Not even a whisper of something I should be listening for.’ It’s just me and the singular metallic desk and two hard metal chairs… both cold and unfeeling as they slightly glint off the single overhead light that slightly pendulums back and forth. Gratefully though, not to long after, the door then reopens, and another suited man comes in with a manilla folder. His expression is mostly neutral but his taught features and cropped haircut reek of ex-military and no nonsense. I could immediately feel a tightness in my stomach, one which I try to will away as I shift slightly in the chair. The man then closes the door and sits down calmly and without even a single word back to me before opening the folder out flat on the table. I immediately notice my photo on the upper right holding on by a single paperclip. “State your name for the record,” he commands, taking out a black-cased pen from the inside of his suit jacket. I swallow hard and wish more than anything that a glass of water would have been right there in front of me in that moment. “Jack… Thomas.” The man pauses and looks up at me with a hint of a hateful and annoyed glared in his eyes. “Your full name, Mr. Thomas.” I hesitate for a moment, hating my middle name… always have, but the man keeps staring at me. Maybe if the room was pastel blue and I hadn’t been frisked on my way in, I might have asked a simple ‘why,’ but my present circumstances tell me that any perceived ‘backtalk’ or questioning would be unwise. “Jack… Marie Thomas.” I can’t help but say my middle name with a slight distaste in my mouth. ‘Stupid family name…’ As typically happens, as I say it out loud, despite likely knowing it beforehand and just confirming my identity, even the stern man before me seems to find my middle name amusing… Ultimately though, he says nothing about it. He then uses his pen to go through several more verifications of my identity… social security, gender, age. All typical for someone trying to confirm I am who I say I am. Working for the government before, all that at least doesn’t faze me. But then comes the questions afterward. At first, they seem pretty normal for someone in my situation… like how long I have been unemployed, or, what my financial situation looks like, but then they start to veer towards the realm of being highly uncomfortable as why they would even need to be asked in the first place. Questions like, “Do you have heart troubles?” or “Do you have any family that miss you if you were absent?” are among the more particularly alarming. Finally, after he asks me if I’ve ‘had any surgeries,’ I can’t take it any longer. “Okay!” I shout, standing up and forcing my chair backward toward the likely two-way mirror. “No more questions! I’ve answered everything from my size to sexual preference to even if I have any allergies to medications or latex! What the hell does that have anything to do with finding a job?” The suited man glares at me and calmly stands up, towering over me. “Sit down, Mr. Thomas. These are all vital questions, I assure you… and we’re almost done.” His calm presence slightly infuriates me and only adds to my already-present anger. “Sit down? That’s all?” I smack the table. “Screw this, mister! I’m getting out of here right this second!” I march toward the door, but as my hand touches the doorknob, the man speaks up once more. “Mr. Thomas… Jack.” He calmly walks over to me and stands right up against my left side, staring down at me… not with rage or annoyance, but almost a calm passivity of a parent to a child. It more than halts my efforts in leaving right away. “You will find no locks on these doors or any others in this building toward the exit. You are free to go anytime you please...” Determined and still disturbed, my hand turns the knob. “Well, then. I’m getting the hell out of…” “But I encourage you to stay,” he says resolutely in a way that stops my hand cold… almost like he knows something I don’t. He then walks back over to the desk and retrieves my file before switching it to one of the pages on the left side. “It says here you’ve been out of a job for about a month now, which you also just confirmed for me. I’ll stop the questions, but… let’s talk about that for a second.” He pauses briefly. “Promise. Nothing more.” I hesitate to move back to the table, but I at least remove my hand from the doorknob and reface him. If nothing else, he seems happy about that. “Good. Now, come back to the table and sit down. Or stand… I just want to lay out your options here, Mr. Thomas.” I grumble and nearly leave on the spot, but there’s an odd quality about this man that makes me stay. I don’t know what it is, but that intangible quality eases me up a little. So, at least curious now, I walk back over to my chair… but I don’t sit down. “Very good, Mr. Thomas.” He calmly flips through several pages in my file. “So, again… you were laid off from your job about a month ago, correct?” “Correct,” I confirm, feeling a little deflated at admitting that. “I knew it was coming though. I’ve been working part-time for almost eight months now. Budget cuts and all…” The suited man nods. “Yes. The economy isn’t doing wonders at the moment and there have been several cuts to federal programs. Seems like your program was hit but you managed to linger on… at least until last month.” “Yes,” I admit, my ego deflating even more. “And from your earlier confirmation and from what it says from the application you filled out online that you’ve been looking for a job since then?” he asks before looking up at me. “But nothing since?” I shake my head. “Nothing serious. Small positions. Some part-time work I’m looking at in the meantime, but… I need something more. You can’t live in this area without something steady anymore.” “Yes…” The suited man’s eyes nearly seem to glow with opportunity, happiness, and another quality underneath that would amount to something nearly sinister. I focus on that last bit. “I see all that on your file here. Some college debts remaining… ouch on those, but a car payment… three years from paying off, and…” He looks back up at me and squints his eyes. “No savings?” I shake my head, and I feel I can’t sink any lower now in this room, sitting in the chair in a slump of built-up defeat before this mysterious figure… a deflated and defeated individual. “No… I have some savings, but… the form asked if I had less than $1000 in savings… which I do. So, yes, some saving, but not enough to check off the box indicating something higher.” “I see… so practically nothing and you’re living on fumes now as well…” He doesn’t wait for me to respond as my silence does plenty of talking alone. “So, you see, Mr. Thomas… when I ask you these questions… I know they may be intrusive, but honestly, this is for a government position and what amounts to an ultimate handout. With the economy and layoffs recently, I’m sure you can understand that we have many candidates in search of work or money these days.” He lets his points hang in the air for a moment, each one a painful reminder of my desperation and how close I am to failing completely. I wished I could say I had backups or a plan to bail me out, but that would be a lie. My parents are far away and broke themselves after sinking their money into some long-term investment. My brother is too busy with his wife and a new kid on the way… and we aren’t even that close. And friends? Well, I’m not exactly a social butterfly and the loss of my job hasn’t helped with that any in finding new ones. The suited man has me cornered and while the door is unlocked… it might as well be a safe door as far as I’m concerned for leaving through it now. Despite my apprehension, I know that this is one of the few chances I have to get out of the hole I’m digging myself further into every day. And terribly, the suited man knows it. His underlying smile, so subtle as to almost even be unseen, ripples along and emphasizes my desperation and his next question. “So… may I continue?” Submissive to his whims and with the knowledge that I have nowhere else to turn, I merely nod my head. He smiles, but this time his glee is obvious over my compliance with what he wants. “Excellent. Now,” he flips another page from the right side of my file, “do you have any fetishes… sexual deviancies? I really try not to judge… Purely for the record.” An hour later I’m back out on the street in Washington D.C. It’s been my home for years now, but lately it’s felt more like a self-contained prison. Each Brutalist building contrasts heavily with the Greek Revival ones, but each seems like a slap in my face now as I pass by them. ‘That’s where I used to work…’ is my constant theme these days, and each day that passes without a solid job, those words feel more distant. So, in an attempt to blur my lines of what is real and what is crushing, I head to the nearest bar I can remember. It’s a small little thing and usually a pretty quiet behind the Archives building… mostly a place for stuffy politicians or glassy eye curators. For me, though, I just order a beer and sigh as I look down into it and the bubbles fizzing up from the bottom. It’s a small distraction, but it still work its magic and let’s me forget for a second… “Pretty shit, huh?” the bartender asks out loud, catching me off guard. I look up with bleary eyes and squint back at him as he polishes off another glass with his dish towel. “Huh?” He gestures to the nearby small TV, almost looking at odds with the rest of the older style bar in the district. Still, unlike most others in the city, it displays the news instead of sports. Most newcomers request to change it, but that’s not what this place is about, and they’re always shot down. In this place, it’s all about governmental policy and change. So, when I look up at the TV and see yet another news report, it’s not surprising, but the headline opens my eyes more than I care to admit. “Government eases testing standards for new programs.” It could be worse, especially in the modern climate, but still… it makes me wonder. “Hard to believe. Maybe chickens won’t be tested as well or something. Saving a buck or two, I guess…” I shrug, not really knowing the answers and not being surprised by most anything on the news anymore. The bartender eyes a nearby chicken sandwich with more than a little unease but ultimately collects it and comes back. “Maybe, but… ready for another round tonight?” He gestures at the once full beer in my hands currently. I sigh and stare at my nearly empty glass. I want another, but ultimately, I shake my head. “No, would love to but…” I don’t finish my thoughts and simply pull out my only 20-dollar bill and hand it over. From the change I get back, I am sure to still leave a decent tip. I might be screwed these days, but I just can’t find it in myself to tip poorly. I walk back to my apartment rather than taking the metro. It saves me a little money, and the walking feels good… despite the fact that the weather is unseasonably warm for this time of year. It especially doesn’t help as I make my way up the flight of stairs and to my actual apartment. Little beads of sweat are already pouring from my forehead as my keys turn to my barebones living space. With my previous job, I was never here much before, so I never felt the need for more. Now though, especially as I immediately go back to job hunting and checking my email, it feels especially lonely. Tonight however, while I’m looking through my emails, I see what I’ve been looking for now for a month. The newest email in my inbox blinks and is all in bold. “Your application has been accepted.” It’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping up and down in joy after reading the header of the fresh and beautiful email message. “Yes! Finally!” I briefly stifle my joy and check out the job… just in case of spam. To my utter relief, it seems all legitimate. So, not wasting a second, I quickly reply back to set up an interview. My hand nearly shakes the whole time I’m writing the email back to them. I can feel the electricity of the potential in the moment. It feels like… freedom… opportunity. Once I hit send though, I allow the waves of euphoria to fully pour through me. I’m electric… thrilled… jubilant. I jump up and after even do a little dance before snapping my fingers. “This calls for a celebration!” So, once more, I grab my keys and head out my door to the nearest convenience store. It’s small and a little dingy around the back, but they have a great selection of chips and ice cream… perfect for a little late night snack celebration. I almost go for chocolate and cherry, but considering the heat and the occasion though, I grab my favorite flavor of chocolate and peanut butter. It feels so good to clutch that pint of cold deliciousness in my hand and I even whistle slightly as I checkout. “Man, I wish I could be that happy about something,” the store owner tells me. “Oh, it feels great,” I acknowledge. “Just got a job application back and I’m waiting to set up an interview. I can honestly say that it’s the best news I’ve had in a month.” The store owner’s eyes light up and he smiles wide. “Congratulations, sir! Best of luck to you on that,” he says, handing me the receipt with nearly a bounce in his words now. Most people know the horrible state of the economy and the huge numbers of joblessness. An interview was always great before, but these days… it’s an even bigger deal. I smile even wider and take my receipt. “Thank you! I really think things are just about to turn the corner for me…” I then exit the store and head back to my apartment. I’m humming along the darkened street… a few lights out from the lack of maintenance. Crime is up in the area, but my apartment isn’t far, and I almost have developed sixth sense about these things by now. But I’m happy. That wouldn’t be a problem normally, but I’m nearly in bliss. There’s something so alluring and free about the prospect of an interview for me. It’s a light at the end of the tunnel and a beacon of hope I can turn toward through the rough storms that is my life at the moment. It should all be grand. I’m even whistling a bit once again and focusing just on what is in front of me. I’m distracted. I don’t hear the crack of a twig on the sidewalk behind me like I normally would. I don’t pay attention to the rubber turning on the pavement off to the side or the deft footsteps on the alleyway down on my left. I’m oblivious to all other things other than my own happiness that yes, I’ve turned the corner in life. Yes, most absolutely, things will be different. Turns out… just not in the way that I wanted. The personnel that surround me are very quick. Professional, burly, and imposing masked figures. They bear no insignia, and I can’t make anything out of them except their maybe six inches to a foot in height and maybe 30 pounds of muscle over me at least. One gets me from behind and places their hand over my mouth with some kind of cloth. Two go for my arms quickly after and lock me into place. The fourth goes for my legs in a vice-like grip. I can’t move and I’m being hauled away… right down the darkened alleyway and into a van. I try to scream. I try to flail around… but it’s useless. I’m useless. I’m packed into the black van in seconds, and I hear the side sliding door crunch over on its tracks and then slam shut before the vehicle lurches away. I barely move with how I’m still being held. No voices around me. Just hand signals and quick and efficient meaty hands that go to work around me. I’m locked in and I can’t do anything about it. Darkness starts to envelop me. The van is dark and curtains black out most of the light, but quickly, I know with terrifying horror that this is something more. My limbs become heavy. The fight inside me begins to fade whether I wish for it or not. I want to kill these people… at least scratch or beat them senselessly and flee back into the night and up to the relative safety of my apartment. But those are the actionable desires of someone fully conscious. Simply put, that isn’t me anymore. A hand is still over my mouth. Though the edges of my world begin to blur, I still smell something chemical in front of me. ‘The white rag covering my mouth and nose must be laced with something.’ There’s no other rational explanation for how I’m feeling right now. It’s a terrible sinking feeling in my gut. But it doesn’t matter. The figure that was once holding my legs now comes over to me, and while the van is still mostly black, a flash of light streams in from the front and highlights the metallic cylinder precariously balanced in their hands. The needle at the tip almost seems to sparkle and drip with something magical and yet unwanted. I’m not a genius, but it doesn’t take one to realize what is about to happen. With my last efforts of strength, I thrash about. But again, I’m useless. Before, it was the locked position of the personnel holding and pinning me in place. Now, I feel their grip is still locked but now significantly loosened. If anything, my efforts against them come off as simply pathetic. So, whether I wish it or not, the person takes advantage of my uselessness and weakness and comes forward. Before I can even attempt to scream out, he quickly jabs the needle right into my arm. It burns heavily and I wince and try to scream in pain as it plunges deep. But again, I’m useless. I’m powerless to stop anything, and worse… the blackness, at first creeping, now surges forward around my vision like a crashing wave. Now, there is nothing more. I feel nothing. I am nothing. * * * The bumps that jostled me awake earlier are no less smooth now than they were previously from what had to be at least three hours ago. I have to pee something fierce but the truck I’m bound, gagged, and blindfolded in has shown no signs of stopping. Occasionally, I hear something on the radio or hushed whispers, but that’s about it. I could forgive anyone from thinking that it meant I didn’t know anything. True, I couldn’t hear or really touch anything, but my other senses were ever more focused. I had watched a documentary last year about a woman who fled her kidnapper and because she remembered the sound of a train going by not long before the car she was in stopped, the police were able to later apprehend her kidnapper. So, drawing at least a few parallels between our situations, as soon as I had come to my senses, I tried to figure out anything I could in this less-than-ideal situation. The road was rough and bumpy. As I noted before, it’s what jostled me awake after I had passed out in D.C., but that was another prominent thing. Also, yes, it was summer in D.C., and the old swamp area was particularly humid, but now… it is still hot around me, but more of a dry heat. I feel the sweat accumulate slightly around my body in the back of the truck… likely poorly ventilated and maybe even open to the outside in places. I’m not entirely sure about that, but the heat and lack of humidity tell me that I’m nowhere near to where I live. Potentially problematic, yes, but also telling. Loving to travel, I’ve been to most of the surrounding states near D.C., and what’s absolutely certain, nowhere right now is receiving dry heat as their weather forecast right now. It’s either something akin to the swamps of Satan or the near drownings of a wretched batch of storms in the areas… not this. So, I begin to check off in my mind where I could be. ‘Definitely west of the Appalachian Mountains… but no cold or extreme breezes of the Rockies… plus maybe too far. Back roads definitely… so not near a city. No traffic lights either, since we haven’t stopped once, so that kills a lot of places as well. Figure a straight drive since last night and the amount of heat… intense and not boiling but growing… means early or midday… but that also would only place me somewhere along just east of the Mississippi longitude from when I was kidnapped last night to now.’ I paused and winced. ‘No… that’s not right, so… crap. Was I out for a whole day already? My bladder… shit. I’m even further west. Maybe a full day then… Still a big area though. Doesn’t narrow it down too much, but it’s something.’ I hope I’m wrong in most of that in a way, since going to a barren area hardly ever spelled something good, but considering I was kidnapped already… my luck doesn’t seem that good. The truck bounces me about a few more times and my need to pee is near to the bursting point. I try thinking about almost anything else, but that’s proving an issue. Between my hunger, my bladder, and my confinement, I nearly feel bugs crawling over my skin in a near phantom itch to move… to run. Just… anything more than this. I try to speak, but the gag prevents anything but a muffled sound emitting instead of the pleas to let me go or at least let me move around that I truly intend. It does attract the attention of my kidnappers though… “Hey, you!” a gruff voice nearly growls at me. “Cut that out. We’re almost there, so just sit tight. We can’t hurt you, but we can make your last moments out here very miserable.” I feel a hand shove me slightly back. “So… what’s it going to be? Stay calm or are we going to have to get… creative?” I sense his threat is exactly that. There was no hesitation or even any signs of a bluff on his part. This man, whoever he is, seems to have both done this before and be pretty okay with it and whatever else was necessary in his role to subdue me. So, weighing my options, considering my current state of being trapped, mute, and blind… I settle down and don’t say a word. The man chuckles. “Good boy. Maybe there’s hope for you yet…” His words do nothing to help the already pent-up and dreading feeling I had since I had been taken. Still, despite his gruffness and threats to use possibly violence or torture or some other nasty thing against me, the man was at least telling the truth that we would soon arrive. The van quickly lurches to a stop. A few shuffling noises later, my blindfold is finally removed. I have to blink a few seconds as the light streams all around me from the windows in the front and the back. I find it strange that the van is so open like that now as compared to last night with the curtains on the windows, but the figures in front of my vision fully distract me from any further thoughts on the matter. Masked and geared to the hilt, they exude an ex-military vibe that I often saw in my previous job when dealing with mercenaries and security personnel we contracted out for our safety sometimes. Not saying a word, the lead man then points out the door that is soon opened. More light floods in and I look back to the man who gestured to the door for more answers. I’m not sure why he isn’t just using his words, but at this point, I remember the veiled threat before. Whatever this is, I absolutely don’t want to make it uncomfortable… or at least more so than it already is. The man simply waves his hand at me out the door. I take his meaning this time to exit the vehicle. I’m still gagged, and my hands are bound together tightly… uncomfortably at this point, but again, I don’t want to cause any more problems for myself. Simply put… between the dry heat, the backroads, lack of traffic lights, and the amount of time it took to get here and stop, I don’t like my chances of escape. Terrifyingly, my suspicions are confirmed when I exit the vehicle. Desert… or at least at best a barren wasteland of dried-up prairies stretches for what seems like miles in all directions. Hazy mountains flank to the west, and to the east… nothing. I think I see a shimmering glint of maybe a tower… a fence… something, but definitely not civilization. If anything, even those signs of something else seem to reinforce the barrenness of where I’m currently standing. Another masked and geared man comes up to me and holds up a tablet of sorts near my head before glaring right at me. “Confirm… Jack Maria Thomas,” he directs right as another man removes the gag from my mouth from behind. I smack my mouth together a few times in an effort to remove the nasty threads left on my tongue. I can already feel the dryness of a lack of water from all that time, but I also see the masked man’s eyes. Sharp, focused… full of duty, sternness, and no-nonsense. I saw the same in the other man and I know not to screw around, but I know I need to try. “Please… just let me go and…” “Confirm,” he presses again, this time with a small amount of anger behind his voice and one of his fingers seemingly itching toward the stock of the gun he’s carrying as well. I swallow hard at the scene, and I nod as fast as I can. “Yes… that’s me.” I take a breath. “But what…?” “Silence.” His voice isn’t annoyed, angry, or even shrill like I might has expected. Just more to the point and focused on the task he seemingly has to perform. To me, it seems we both have our roles to fill… ‘Definitely not the overall leader of this thing.’ The man taps a few more things on the tablet before him, before strangely looking dismayed. I almost question him, but with everything going on around me, my thoughts bounce from one subject to the next and his looks take a momentary backseat. My vision moves from the desert landscape to the horizon line, to the distant mountains, to the men with guns… and then even to what I am currently wearing. Before, back in D.C., I was still wearing the suit I had worn to the interview earlier in the day. I had removed the suit jacket once I got home, but the button-up shirt and pants were definitely still attached to me. Now, they’re gone and in their place is a faded green prison jumpsuit of sorts. I swallow hard at the implications… Finally looking up from his tablet, the man looks at me once more. “Okay… here’s your situation. In a moment, you’re going to a bunker of sorts. You will be there for one year, and at the end… you’ll get a substantial payout for your services.” I frown back at him in confusion, but I keep my mouth shut, my eyes still drifting to the rifle attached to his body. ‘Definitely not where I thought this was going…’ “I see you have questions,” the man notes, stepping closer to me, “but they will have to wait. We need to do two things right now. First, know there are only three ways out of this.” He holds up one finger. “First… quit. You do that and all the money reserved for you at the end will be forfeited, and you will receive no government assistance of any kind afterward.” He holds up a second finger. “Two… flee. You try to escape, and…” He pivots over and points to the shiny point at the distance I had seen earlier. “You see that?” I quickly nod. “Good. That’s a watch tower. They’re all around you,” he notes menacingly as he gestures in a circle around where we’re standing before he rests his hand on his large gun. “They have guns just like this one… or even much larger. You escape; they have the option to shoot you on sight. You survive; you go back and incur a penalty… a harsh one.” He glares at me. “I wouldn’t suggest that route.” I wince but note internally that there’s still one more option. “And third?” I ask hesitantly, the first two options seeming truly terrible and hoping beyond measure that somehow the third would be more reasonable. “Third…” He smirks down at me, his few inches of height over me seemingly a lot more in our current roles. “Well, third is that you finish the year here. It might seem like a burden and impossible in the days ahead, but considering the others, I would still recommend option three.” Again, I quickly nodded. Another person, feistier and more combative might have fought, but that wasn’t me. I was trying to use my head, and simply put, I saw my options and the remoteness of where I was. Fight, escape, and flee, but to where? Out here, even if I managed to avoid the towers with big guns, my survival out here wouldn’t be guaranteed in the slightest. So, as much as a little voice inside my head was telling me to, my instincts told me as plain as day that fighting back would be pointless… foolhardy at best. “Very good. Maybe there’s hope for you after all…” He smirks and turns back to his tablet before holding it back up to me. “Now then… in you go…” I blink back at the man and look around. “Go? Go where?” The man points nearby and while I have to squint my eyes to see it, only about thirty yards away is what amounts to a slit in the ground. Only about 20 feet long, I see the ground plunges inward and leads to a submerged door right under the surface of the soil above. All of it concrete… devoid of emotion… uninviting. I feel a cold splinter of fear enter my heart. “Wha… what’s down there?” I ask, a weakness and subsequent trembling sensation beginning to take over my limbs as the true measure of my situation begins to unfold before my eyes. “That…” the man noted smugly. “That… is your new home for the next year… or at least the entrance to it.” He pauses for a minute, but me still not budging, the man then scowls back at me and raises his rifle barrel to my chest. “Now… I said to move. Or are you going to be giving us a problem already?” I see his rifle. I see the desperation of my situation being stuck in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by towers that had ‘shoot on sight’ orders. It was horrible, but it was that or the unfeeling bunker-like entrance now before me. Underground and heavy duty… there now seemed to be a permanence to my situation that I hadn’t felt before. I didn’t want to go down there. That’s for sure. I had read and heard about these things before… down there meant torture or death or imprisonment. I would be lucky to ever see the sun again. But… the gun in the hands of a scowling and tough ex-military masked figure before me presents an unmistakable choice, death or compliance. Unlike the previous man in the van before, the one in front of me had made no such promises of not hurting me. Somehow, the van ride now felt like the preliminary phase of all this, but now that I was here, the stakes of it all… the reality and actual event seem to be at my feet now. I didn’t like it… but I knew my options… and their limits. So, I meekly raise my still-bound hands as best to surrender and walk over to the entrance… no fight… no protest… Again, despite him still aiming his gun center-point at my chest, he smiles and soon follows me over to the slit in the ground that is to be my ‘home’ for the next year. Stopping right before the steps to the door, I turn around and hold my bound wrists up. “Can I… well, can I at least be free before I go down?” I try to widen my eyes and seem as desperate as possible. I want to stay strong, but I felt there was a wide gap between entering the creepy bunker with my hands bound versus them free. So, I had to try at least. There’s a grumble and an annoyance from my masked captors, but the main leader nods his head to one of the other men behind me. This new masked man comes at me hard and quickly flicks out a long knife from one of his chest pockets. It shines underneath the desert sun; glinting and deadly. I wince and shut my eyes… painfully aware that I’ve likely lost the protection that was once promised to me before. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, with everything going on, I’m no longer taking anything for granted… not even my safety or my life. But the man only ambles over, roughly takes my wrists, and cuts the rope that was binding them together. I open my eyes and see my now free wrists. “Thank you…” I muster out. The man only grunts and turns away… leaving the leader to point his gun once more at me. “Alright… you’re free. Now, down you go.” Again, his actions are clear, and his gun speaks the volumes that he doesn’t. It says threat and deadly force is now authorized on my hide. It says this is serious business and whatever awaits me in the hole, in case I already knew what was happening, isn’t going to be much better… or at least to the point where they would need to threaten me with entering or face down death itself. I rationalize that most things are better than death and then place my foot on the first step going down. My knees wobble as I turn around full now and head down the stairs. The morning sun begins to arc overhead and fill the hole with light, showing off all the dust floating around in such a barren climate. I see the door ahead of me… it’s shine in stark contrast to the rusted stains on the concrete around it… almost like the place had recently been repurposed… like I was the first guest to come here in years and precautions to keep me in needed to be upgraded. Seeing all that, my hands tremble as they reach out to the large wheel to open the door before me now. But, just in case, I turn around and look one last time at the leader. “I…” I don’t get to finish my thought… my counter to all this, hoping to plead one more time to leave. Instead, the man points his gun at me, but this time… he also makes sure to place his eye along the top rail of the gun, aiming at me with deadly precision. His new actions are clear to me now. Get into this bunker-like structure underground now and be a smear against the door instead. With such an ultimatum, I snap back to the door. I reach out with both hands this time and turn the wheel. It creaks and moans in an awfully hellish way like I am about to enter the very bowels and devilry of the earth. My stomach drops more, and I feel a single bead of sweat perspire on my forehead as the wheel finally budges. It turns and turns some more… the door finally opening. Inside is just another set of stairs downward. Darkness enshrouds more than a few feet, and I hesitate, but my ears pick up the faintest clicking noise. With my last job and growing up with a few who took me to a shooting range, I knew that sound… it was a gun loading its ammo… the weapon aligning with the bullet. Next stop, my head… my body. I have no choice. I don’t even turn around this time to plead to be let go or question a thing. I simply walk forward to my fate, sheer blinding light behind me and nothing but cold concrete and darkness before me. I swallow hard and give myself over to be swallowed by the earth and whatever this place is. Fully in, the door slams behind me. To my relief a few lights flicker on ahead of me. The stairs don’t descend as far as I originally thought but the ominous cramped feeling of all this place gives me a terrible case of claustrophobia. I immediately want out, but a quick turn of my head only reveals a thoroughly shut door behind me… and no handle or even a wheel to let myself out even if I chose that option and forfeited the end prize. Now, whether I want it or not, I’m truly trapped. Suddenly, a speaker overhead crackles to life. The sound coming from it takes a second to synch and come in as more than static, but even in the old-fashioned clicks and echoes of a speaker system at least thirty years old now sounds like, the words are very clear. “Keep moving.” I don’t know why, but I merely nod my head in compliance. I can’t go back. The sealed door and lack of egress proves that at least ten times over in my head. I can only go forward, and now with the lights… it’s not just wandering around blindly in the dark. It’s a concession for sure as to how far I’ve fallen into this terrible plot seemingly against me, but again… I feel I have no choice, or at least not a real one... Wandering down the staircase, holding onto the rail the entire time, I eventually come to a landing zone of sorts before another door. The speaker in front of me this time crackles once more. “Scan your hand on the pad in front of you.” I look and that beyond the grungy metal fittings and the leaking concrete in places, there is a brand-new electronic system… right next to where there is a large pad. It blinks a few times and then stops. Looking around, I don’t see any traps, so, I sigh and place my hand on the pad as instructed. The pad hums and blinks a few times before turning green. “Excellent,” the voice behind the speaker says once more. “You may proceed inside.” A hiss follows and the large metallic door before me opens wide. “Step in,” the voice calls out overhead. Not wanting to stay any longer in the hallway than I need to, I step inside… only to wish I saw just about anything else. Inside is only what I could describe as a jail cell. A simple plastic-like faded green bed has been shoved against one wall. The most basic metallic and uninviting toilet and sink are against another. A barred door is at the other end and as if I didn’t remember for whatever reason, the other door behind me slams and hisses close. Curiously, as I turn back, I am only greeted by a flat wall with a single seem around the edges of where the door had opened up. It’s all cold, barren, and unfeeling… except the electronic device in the corner of the room. Compared to everything else, it seems out of place. Not much larger than an oversized notebook, it blinks to life, and a single plain computerized image of a person appears. “Come here,” the voice from before says without emotion, now sounding more like a computer recording than an actual human being. I step forward cautiously and for whatever reason, I wave at the thing. “Hello?” “Greetings… candidate 35-01.” Again, the voice grates and there’s almost a synthetic whine behind it as well. “Please confirm identity and place hand on screen where indicated.” Like before, I see the blinking panel just to the left of the computerized plain head staring back at me. I sigh and place my hand where instructed. “Jack Marie Thomas.” I was starting to get annoyed at having to say my name… particularly my middle name, so often. A ping goes off and the voice returns. “Welcome, 35-01… Mr. Thomas. You have been selected by the government from a contest of over a thousand candidates to participate in a year long study and observation, known to authorities as ‘Operation Hebe.’ During this time, you will be required to make certain selections in order to facilitate your life… benefits or consequences.” The screen then changes to a counter, but to my dismay it starts simply at 100 and then counts down to only 5. “These are your starting points. As you will see, think of these as a money system of sorts. The more you have, the more you can obtain. All candidates are assigned what you will find labeled as the ‘jail cell.’ You may opt out of this at any time but know that your points can never equal less than zero. Answer, ‘acknowledge’ that you understand this.” Seeing the numbers count down to only 5 quickly gives me an uneasy feeling in all this. I feel queasy… faint and dizzy too. I nearly fall over right then, but I place one hand against the wall at the last second and take a deep breath. “Acknowledge.” The words feel like poison over my tongue, but I don’t see many other ways out. “Recorded.” The screen then flickers briefly and then changes to a large screen with several labels on it. Even in my brief look before it flashes away, I see two labels… listed as ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners.’ “What the fu…?” “Please, 35-01,” the electronic and mostly faceless voice interrupted. “Look through these first few categories that are mandatory. We will give you some time to choose as we know this may be a shock to your system, but your non-compliance will be met with punishment.” The screen flashes back to the selection options. ‘Makeup’ and ‘Owners’ appears, but so do others before the screen switches once again to one labeled at the top as ‘Medicine Effects at 6 Months.’ My eyes instantly widen in shock at the options… particularly with the flashing ‘Selection of One Mandatory’ sign near the top, highlighted all in red. “Hair growth? Incontinence? Penis shrinkage? IQ drop?” I yell out at the screen to where I once saw the lifeless computerized head of the only voice I had been hearing down here. “What the hell is this place?” I smack the bars next to the screen, but there is no response. It’s just me here… me alone with these horrid options. Me alone in a self-described ‘jail cell.’ Me alone after being kidnapped and now confirmed to be part of the government. I slump on the bed in realization of everything clicking together. “The government… the interview I did…” Me, the homeless, ex-government employee walked right into this trap. I wanted a job, and now… for the next year, I seemed to have one. My mind swirled, but it didn’t last long. “35-01. Please make your choice. You now have one hour to make your choices… or suffer the subsequent punishments,” it calls out, its electronics seeming fragile in this state as it droned on. I look over at the still-flashing screen and the selection I have to make. Considering the methods that were employed to get me here… the guns… the towers… the desert… even the bunker I was now in. It all leads me to the same conclusion… punishments mean business here and finding out what they were was ill-advisable to say the least. I sigh and stand up. “Fuck… this is going to be a very bad year…”

Something a little different and a little darker this week: a petgirl story...with diapers! This complete story is an excerpt from Abby's Petgirl Shorts and also available on Ream and SubStar. ----------------------------------- Kate let her head fall to give rest to her aching neck. She knew it wouldn’t last long. Her body was sore, and she was emotionally drained. The door opened, and Kate recognized the girl immediately. Sabrina was a vivacious twenty-two-year-old blonde, just on the verge of graduating and starting her life. Well, at least that’s who she used to be. Kate struggled to raise her head as she watched the cute co-ed crawl across the room. She had been one of the first girls taken and, at the time, it was regarded as tragic and unfortunate, but it wasn’t unusual for young blondes to turn up missing from time to time. But Sabrina looked nothing like the pictures that Kate was given and she struggled to make the pictures in her mind of the innocent young coed match the form that crawled to a stop at her feet. The girl was still cute. That was undeniable, but Kate had never seen anything quite like it. Sabrina was completely naked with a blue collar and bell around her neck. Her hair was split into high pigtails and adorned with light blue ribbons. Her breasts swung freely beneath her as she crawled and, when she came to a stop and sat up on her ankles, Kate could see that she had nipple clamps with small bells attached on them and what looked to be frilly garters around the base of each breast. Sabrina’s hands and feet were completely useless in the matching padded mittens and booties that appeared to be locked onto her limbs with tiny padlocks. The young blonde had a defeated look in her eyes, but kept her mouth open and her tongue out, as she had likely been trained. “Good girl! Stay.” Kate looked at the woman holding Sabrina’s leash. She looked like a boring suburban soccer mom, not at all like the monster that would take a young girl on the brink of starting her life and turn her into…this. The woman turned to Kate. “This is who you were looking for, wasn’t it? I told you that I knew just where she was!” Kate glared at the woman, but the gag in her mouth prevented her from telling the woman how she really felt about their previous encounter or what she would do to the woman if she would ever get free of these stupid restraints. So Kate settled for a glare and tried to put as much fire and distaste and disgust in it as she possibly could. “Oh, you’re cute when you’re mad! I think we need to make sure we see your face. Hang on just a sec…. Oh, who am I kidding? You aren’t going anywhere!” Kate thrashed in her bonds, but it was no use. The woman grabbed Kate’s ponytail and pulled her head back fiercely, making her look directly at the girl she was trying to save, who still sat obediently with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. It wasn’t until the woman stepped away that Kate realized she must have somehow attached her hair to the strict strappado tie that she was in. Kate groaned as she felt the pressure in her scalp and her shoulders ached from being held in such aggressive bondage. “Much better! Okay, you two stay right here and I’ll be back in just a minute!” The two women stared at each other for a moment, Kate unable to speak and Sabrina trained not to. Kate moaned and mumbled incoherently as Sabrina sat perfectly still with her eyes forward. Kate watched the girl as her eyes slowly darted towards the door and she allowed her tongue to recede into her mouth. Sabrina licked her lips and spoke, barely above a whisper. “Are you here to save us? Is there someone else coming?” Kate sighed and closed her eyes, unable to even explain to the girl that no one was coming and not realizing that her look of defeat told the blonde petgirl everything she needed to know. Sabrina whined sadly and sighed as she let her tongue hang out of her mouth again in a humiliating display of obedience. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o When another girl from the same town went missing, people started to take notice. Everyone looked for connections to see what they could piece together. It was just as the press was connecting that they were both students of the local community college that the third girl also went missing. Kate reached out to the Dean of Students to offer her services. It was hard work for a fledgling private investigator and getting a break on a huge case like this was exactly what she needed to put herself on the map. Marilyn Martin gladly took her call and set up a meeting in her office. The police had been completely useless and the board of trustees were not happy about the bad press this was bringing to the school. No one wants to send their kids to Kidnap Kollege, which is what the local reporters had begun to call the small school. Marilyn hired the young detective on the spot and gave her as much information as she could to help her to bring the girls home and save their school...and her job. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o The squeak from the old door brought Kate back to the present as Samantha was pulled into the room. The young brunette was the second girl taken and was the main reason the local police had such a hard time connecting the two girls. Sabrina was homecoming queen and destined to marry rich, have 2.5 kids and a dog, and be head of her local PTA. The perfect cookie cutter All-American blonde co-ed. Samantha was mostly seen around campus in oversized band t-shirts and baseball hats. She was abrasive and known mostly as a bully and a bit of an asshole. She still possessed that same fire as she was forced into the room. The young brunette was clad identically to Sabrina, except her ribbons and collar were an obnoxious shade of pink, a color that Samantha would never have been caught dead in under normal circumstances. But these were anything but normal circumstances. Her mittens were connected to each other, as were her pink booties, and Kate wasn’t sure if the restraints or Samantha’s wilful and defiant attitude were causing more trouble for the rebellious woman as she hobbled into the room. “Bad girl. No!” “Oh, I’m so sorry, Kate. This one has just been an absolutely handful. Nothing like our sweet Sabrina girl.” Samantha was spun around, and her collar and mittens were attached to a small ringlet on the floor. The woman winked at Kate as she raised the paddle and began her relentless assault on the girl’s exposed bottom, with careful attention not to accidentally strike the fluffy tail that was wedged into Samantha’s ass that was likely the cause of some of the unruly woman’s fight and discomfort. Kate noticed that the hair of her uncomfortable tail was an exact match for the hair on Samantha’s head and shuddered. Kate stared down at the wide-eyed blonde and the red bottom of the tomboy turned petgirl as the woman excused herself and left the room again. Sabrina was emboldened as Samantha continued to flail and grumble through her gag, with her reddened ass still on display. “Shhh….hey, you have to help us. This woman is crazy. Please…” They were disrupted by the door opening a third time and the now familiar view of a nude college girl crawling into the room. Jessica was a petite redhead; bookish and timid. The kidnapper didn’t seem to have a type which made connecting the cases even harder. Jessica crawled into the room and came to a stop next to Sabrina. Her green ribbons and mittens were a perfect compliment to her bright red hair, and her breasts weren’t large enough to be adorned with frilly garters like her more buxom companions. But the meek redhead had something the other girls didn’t: a fluffy pink diaper was tightly wrapped around her small bottom. Jessica couldn’t even bring herself to look Kate or anyone else in the eyes as she kept her head down and mirrored Sabrina’s submissive pose. “You’ll have to excuse this one. She was an anxious little thing and kept peeing everywhere! I’ve never seen anything like it. We had to get a little creative, but isn’t this just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” She reached down to hold the trembling girl’s chin in her face. “Someone is going to absolutely love you. As long as they don’t mind changing diapers!” Jessica immediately dropped her head as soon as her chin was released and let out a small whine. “Well, there you go, Kate! I’ll give you this. You were able to do what the police couldn’t. No one has even come close to finding me, but you just knew just where to find us, didn’t you? How did you do it?” The woman walked to the bound detective and let her fingers trace over Kate’s naked flesh. She gave a few tentative spanks and watched the cute detective squirm before twisting a nipple as she reached for Kate’s gag. Kate stretched her jaw and licked her lips. “Marilyn, please. It doesn’t have to be like this. Let us go and we’ll never say a word. You can go back to your cushy college job and we’ll just pretend like this never happened. I can tell the police that I found the girls, but the kidnapper got away. You had your fun. Just let us go.” Marilyn stared at the girl and pondered her words. And then burst into hysterical laughter befitting a villain of her status. “Oh, I like you. We’re going to have some fun together.” She laughed again. “Let you go… as if!” “Come here, Sabrina. Let’s show her how well I train my pets.” The adorable blonde crawled forward as she was led between Kate’s stretched legs. Kate looked down, unaware the spreader bar had even been there, as focused as she had been on the girls she was trying to rescue and the painful arm bondage. As Samantha was forced between Kate’s legs, Marilyn reached up to replace the investigator’s gag and playfully tapped the blonde’s bare bottom as she listened to the beautiful sounds of Kate’s reluctant moans against the backdrop of Sabrina’s pitiful whines. Marilyn enjoyed their discomfort as she slowly fondled Kate’s breasts and imagined all the wonderfully terrible things she would do with two pairs of petgirls. Kate fought diligently but was no match for Samantha’s skillful tongue and the reluctant detective began to moan and thrust her hips into the face of the well-behaved pet that she was there to rescue. Samantha’s startled groans joined the symphony as Marilyn pressed the remote to turn on the vibrator deep within her tail plug. The tomboy turned princess could do nothing but moan and rock her exposed bottom back and forth as she struggled against the bonds holding her to the floor. Marilyn walked over to caress Jessica’s head and smiled as she heard a hissing sound cut through the moans and groans. The humiliated redhead whined as she looked up to Kate for help and saw that none would be coming. “Okay Jessie, let’s get your soggy little bottom changed and then it’s time to train our new friend here. I wonder what kind of pet she’s going to be…” --------------------------------------------------------- Three Brand New Chapters on Ream/SubStar EVERY Week! This week's updates: - The Academy 2: The Journalist - Chapter 4 - Tales from Red Hills: The Politician (Subscriber Exclusive) - Chapter 2 - The Puppy Van, from Abby's Petgirl Shorts

(Your character) suddenly woke up when she felt a hand cup his mouth. Her eyes widened and she tried to sit up, but she was being held down! She looked around wildly, before her eyes met the eyes of a strange man who was standing above her, smirking at her. (Your character) started to breathe shakily, doing her best to get out of the man's grasp. She didn't even recognise who this was! She had merely gone to work as usual, met clients as usual, gone home, as usual, and gone to bed as usual! Only to wake up, seeing her room seemingly in shambles, and herself being detained. She tried to scream, but she went quiet when the hand covering her mouth held down more harshly, nails cutting into her face. The yelling then turned to tears. She wasn't anyone special! She was just a normal salesperson! She did her work like everyone else and tried to have a good life... How was she supposed to know that her information was by chance sold online to the highest bidder, because some creep she had sold to found her attractive enough to be able to make money off of?! (Your character) was beaten to the point of passing out, and when she next woke up, she was detained in some container... Her hands were tied at her sides, her waist and her legs were tied up too... She couldn't move much at all! From what she could see, she was in some pink box... A box that dolls would come in, perhaps. And of course, she was dressed in an elaborate doll dress, pink and frilly and gaudy... Once getting past the fact that she was in the box, she could see through the glass show window that she was in some sort of shipping container... And it seemed like the ground beneath her was rocking... The journey was long and hard, leaving her with nothing to eat, and no way to relieve her aching bladder for nearly two days before she was taken out, placed in a truck, and driven to the house of what would soon become her new owner... She was left on a porch in front of a door, and it took another several hours before someone came to get her! When Anya finally got home from work and noticed her package had arrived, she walked up to her, and glanced at the girl on her doorstep. She was passed out and in a nasty shape, and of course, she was dressed fancy and her hair was done up, and she was tied tightly to the box so she couldn't move! Anya tapped on the glass curiously. "Are you alive in there?" She asked and tilted her head. When the girl woke, she surprised to see that her new plaything was so combative even after her whole kidnapping and shipping. "Calm down my dear. If you promise you'll behave, I'll let you out of there." She said finally. "Until you agree to this, however, you'll just have to sit there, and those ropes don't look all that comfortable to me." She stated firmly.

A/N: I know, I’ve posted again!! I’m currently sick with Bronchitis and have nothing better to do than write all day (just kidding, I could do all my missing college work) but I prefer to write this!! It’s a six part story, already fully written so I’ll post two parts together every few days! I am also still working on my other story: Babydola so if you haven’t read that, go check it out!! Enjoy for now! Synopsis: At the House of Strange Entities, nothing is normal, even seemingly lonely old Mrs. Fox. If only Clara had realized that sooner… ooOoo Part 1: The Arrival The House of Strange Entities was a very strange place indeed. The young woman had stopped for a bathroom break, spotting an exit sign for the pink one-story building a few miles back traveling down interstate-145. Filled with miscellaneous objects, each room was a different discovery yet there was one common denominator: vintage Everyone had their interests and Clara was the last to judge but there was just something… off. Though in the beginning, She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it. Now, she wished she had. But it was too late. The owner of the museum, Mrs. Fox seemed surprised when the blonde appeared. She said they didn’t get many visitors. “Yes, well I thought it best to use the bathroom,” Clara’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’ve still got another few hours to drive.” “Where are you headed? I can tell you're not from around here.” Her voice was delicate and soft, reminding the nineteen year old of her grandmother. She must have been in her mid sixties, possibly even early seventies from the wrinkles just beginning to show on her aging skin and salt and peppered hair. Dressed in a yellow floral print knee length dress, white cardigan and a string of pearls around her neck, the older woman certainly did have style. Clara knew the importance of stranger safety but this woman didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly much less a five foot four, one-hundred twenty pound girl. “I’m from Massachusetts, actually. My cousin’s getting married in the Finger Lakes Region.” she admitted. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” the woman exclaimed. “I lived up there for many years. What a beautiful place. I must say though, you seem awfully young to be traveling this far on your own…” “Well, I'm nineteen,” the young girl shrugged. “My family wanted to come up earlier and I was still finishing my college exams. I’m joining them now though.” “Hmm…” the woman smiled, eyes glued to her face. She gulped, shifting back and forth on her feet, unsure how to respond. It was the same as when she met someone and they said, “oh I knew you as a baby!” Like oh! Ok! That’s Interesting? Wearing a sundress she wasn’t cold but her arms wrapped around herself, feeling the slightest chill despite the humid air. Brushing it off, she turned back to peer out the window, her car parked right out front. The sun was lower than before, she noticed and if Clara was going to make the trip before sundown, she’d have to leave soon. “Oh, do you have to leave? I was going to offer you a tour!” “A tour?” She said turning back, head cocked to the side. “Yes! I’ve got quite the collection of old items around here. Antique rooms from way back when. I usually charge a small fee but I’ll show you for free!” Her lips pursed, unsure whether to take up the offer. Instead, she apologized, “I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s going to start getting dark soon and-“ “Oh, it’s just a straight drive pretty much from here,” the woman waved her hand like it was nothing. “Where are you going, Ithaca? Geneva? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, there’ll be hardly any traffic. Stay for a bit longer, it’s only a few rooms. Besides, it’s nice to have company. Not many people come around.” Ok, now she just felt guilty. The woman seemed genuine and Clara would hate it if her own grandma hardly had any company like this. She’d want someone to stay for her. Sighing, reluctantly, she agreed knowing how much one small act could mean to another. A half hour couldn’t kill and then she could get back on the road. “Oh this is just splendid! You won’t regret this, trust me!” She hoped not. Walking behind, Clara couldn’t help but shiver at the breeze that followed. ooOoo Part 2: The Cooking Station She’d lead her through another door, entering a 1950s style kitchen. While black and white tiles lined the ground, the cabinets were a striking pop of turquoise blue compared to the brightly colored red table. Staring in surprise, It’s like she’d taken a step back in time. “Welcome to the cooking station, dear. It’s not just any regular old kitchen.” Oh she could see that. Lined on the table were an antique china set of plates, priceless just buy the look of them while the cabinets were full of unrecognizable gadgets she could not name for the life of her. There were little place cards , she didn’t bother to read, gazing around the room in great interest. “I was always quite the collector and I knew, even way back then, that these items may be of value some day,” the woman explained, standing by the stove, mixing something in a steaming pot. Had that been on this entire time? Clara tried to look closer only for the woman to shoo her away. “Each room is interactive, you know. You go through it as if you are a part of it! Sit down dear, you’re too skinny. This’ll be sure help!” Cracking a smile, Clara couldn’t help but obey. Settling down at the table, undoing the lacy cloth in her lap, she was hungry now that she came to think of it. Being the broke college student she was as well, never would she deny free food. “So this is part of the experience?” “Oh, yes,” Mrs. Fox replied as she scooped out what looked to be mash potatoes into a bowl and poured a glass of steaming milk. Setting down the dishes, Mrs.Fox sat across with none for herself but staring with a questioning glance, she felt it best not to ask. “Everyone once in a while a larger group will come and I’ll have many more dishes. People have always loved to fantasize about the past so I thought why not bring it to them in a different way!” It was smart, the young girl had to admit as she took a spoonful from the small dish. “What you’re eating there is Morning Glory Mash. It was a common dish back in the day. My mama used to feed it to me and I bet if you ask your mama, she’d know exactly what you’re talking about. The black bits in there are the seeds and give great nutritious value. Great for getting your tummy grumbling as well when you need to go number two.” Ewww. The young girl grimaced slightly, not wanting to think about taking a shit. However, at the woman’s hopeful glance, she continued to eat, forgetting about it. She could defiantly taste the seeds, biting into them. They had a certain bitterness that canceled out nicely the saltiness of the potatoes. It only took a few moments to finish as she ate bite after bite until the bowl was empty. She’d have to remember to ask her parents about this. “The milk now has just a touch of sugar,” the woman said, pointing at the glass. “It’s another staple with any meal or if you have an upset stomach.” Clara didn’t think much of it, gulping down the creamy sweet deliciousness until the last few drops and her stomach was full and bloated. “Good?” The woman smiled, nodding toward the empty dishes. “You’re a great cook!” she said, patting the cloth to the corners of her mouth. “It’s almost as if people get to physically taste the past! It’s a nice change from the normal history museums, just looking through a glass case-” “Yes, well food is the key to anyone’s heart!” They both let out a laugh, knowing oh how true that was. “Shall we move onto the next room? I think you’ll find each one a little different.” Without a thought she agreed, following behind the shuffling woman in absolute naivety. Ignoring her previous reservations, Clara realized she had been silly. There was no danger here. OoOoo A/N: Thanks for reading! Two more parts will come in a few days (or if I decide just to post early) I love reviews also so please tell me what your thoughts are! I’d love to hear them!!

A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…

The New Charge Prologue Amber had decided to take the plunge! For years she had drifted in and out of the fetish scene hoping to find that special someone that would make her world complete. She wanted a male, a male to dominate and control, but none of her previous conquests had measured up to her dominant desires. She really wanted to force her partner (or victim), but within the fetish scene, her conquests had actually wanted what she was offering, in one form or another. But, it wasn’t the same if they wanted it, she wanted to actually force them! Amber Anderson was a professional - or that’s how she would have been described by many. From a relatively average upbringing, Amber had made her mark on the world. She was the daughter of a single mother that was a determined head strong woman, who had brought her up to be both assertive and independent. Amber had excelled at university and worked hard at her career. The scientist had changed the face of the pharmaceutical industry forever. She had developed many drugs over her career that had changed the medical landscape - the added bonus for her was that it had made her a very wealthy woman. In her twenties and now in her mid-thirties she had not had the time for a relationship (and wasn’t sure that she had even wanted a conventional one!) She had instead, concentrated on one night stands or short term arrangements, mostly centred around her fetishes and desires to dominate and control. These liaisons primarily involved her restraining and forcing her fetishes onto her partners. She had enjoyed dressing them up, role playing with them and humiliating her charges. Amber was now thirty five years old and was ready to focus on her personal life and personal goals. Amber had a strong relationship with her mother who was also (shall we say kinky) into domination of men. Victoria who herself was a successful woman in her own right, (owning a fetish equipment and clothing business,) had always supported her daughter wherever she could. Now that Amber had effectively retired she now shared her large lavish home with her mother Victoria. Amber had always thought her own sexual orientations had rubbed off onto her from her mother, they must of done. From as long as she could remember her mother had installed into her the importance of dominating men. Six months ago the women were openly discussing their sexual encounters (this was nothing new, Amber and Victoria were more like friends, rather than mother and daughter and neither were shy coming forward!) They had no issue with openly discussing their sexuality, liaisons and fantasies. Both openly liked to dominate, especially men. Whilst Victoria was heavily into the bondage, specialised fetishes and the medial fetish scene, Amber had strong desires towards age play. She also had a fetish for paper handkerchiefs, which was strange as she had discussed this with Victoria and so did her mother. Specifically, Amber wanted to baby a man - she had the aspiration to be a mummy but not in its natural sense, no, she wanted to reduce a man to be her very own plaything. She had an almost fascination in thinking how much fun it would be, to reduce a male to infancy, her mother was also very open to the scenario, even encouraging her daughter (with her own ideas on how to control the captive.) During this conversation Amber beached the subject of the idea to kidnap a male, for both women to keep for their own pleasure. Incredibly Victoria was not shocked in any way and admitted that she had often thought of this herself - and so it was agreed between the mother and daughter that they would work together to plan and kidnap their victim. Chapter 1 Unbeknownst to myself, I had been watched and investigated for months. Amber had initially selected me after trawling through various bars and then had eventually decided to proceed. She had even sent her mother Victoria to interact with me on one occasion, where I had actually bought her a drink. I had chatted with her for half an hour or so (During this time she was busy gathering important information, about my background, home life situation, friends and work contacts etc, to see if I was suitable.) Victoria had even managed to copy my phone contents onto a device for further inspection. Victoria was so excited when she delivered her assessment to Amber. “He’s the one, I’ve checked him out, he has no family, no real friends and a zero contract job. No one will miss him, we’ll contact his landlord to pay off his remaining rent and state he’s going off travelling. We can also send a resignation letter to his employer saying the same thing!” Victoria was also excited as she handed over my phone contents to Amber and advised her daughter how I had paid particular attention, when she had purposely made ‘a big thing’ about searching through her handbag for her own mobile telephone and had laid a wad of crisp white paper handkerchiefs on the table. “He couldn’t resist but help me by passing them back to me once I’d located my phone, I know its silly, but I cant wait until my tissues touch him again! Although this time he’ll never know what hit him!” Amber laughed as she imagined her mother forcing her special paper handkerchiefs onto their selected victim! It was now time to initiate the final part of the trap. Over the next few weeks Amber started to attend the bar where PJ frequented. She didn’t go in all guns blazing, but eventually she had PJ exactly where she wanted. He had often bought her a drink and chatted with her, but now it was time.

Disclaimer: The story contains mentions of abuse if you are uncomfortable with that I suggest you don't read. ooOoo Chapter 1: The orphanage was overcrowded and chaotic. It was a small building, more a house, in a decent neighborhood. Marina and Christian hadn’t known what to expect when they pulled into the driveway. In front of the white two-story house was a sign that said, Brighter Horizons Orphanage. There was a large wrap-around porch and the garden in the front yard was only half alive and grass overgrown. It was known that the orphanages were terribly underfunded. The government tended to give all their money to the large hospitals leaving nothing for anyone else. It was a part of Christian Tischner’s goal to make sure everyone could afford the same opportunities. No littles should have to suffer. No workers should be stressed or overworked. But that was often the case with the underpaid staff. When the couple got the phone call a week ago, they were taken aback. It was from Marsha Mercer, a woman they hadn’t heard from in many years. She was their designated social worker. When you adopt your first little, it’s the law that you have surprise home checks every three months for up to a year to ensure that the little is being well taken care of. However, because it had been so long since they had a little, Marsha decided to check in, just to make sure everything was going ok. Their first thought was of Willa, worried something had happened, and she was going to be taken away. That’s what those phone calls usually led to. Their fears, however, were quickly squashed as Marsha explained the situation. A little by the name of Olive May was in need of fostering. She had been the third girl at Little Beginnings Hospital in the Newborn Ward with Lulu and Willa. The story was devastating. A friend of Astrid Reichner wanted to adopt her early. The girl was a master at manipulation and had everyone convinced that she had fully regressed. She was released into the woman’s custody but her new mommy quickly learned that she was not the perfect angel she portrayed. For three years she was abused physically and mentally. Her mommy could not afford to send her back to the hospital so she tried to force her into little space. It did not work and she’s now stuck between a 6-month-old to three years old, headspace, often fluctuating between them. Olive May was aware enough to know that she shouldn’t be in diapers and a onesie and that he was actually an adult. That proved a huge problem because little’s like those, if escaped, could reveal all of their secrets. Her social worker never noticed the signs of abuse. She was overworked, taking on hundreds of cases that most of the time she’d forget to check in. When she was rescued, she spent a month at SunnySide Hospital but the doctors determined that too much damage had been done and it would be virtually impossible to regress her to a set age. There was nothing more they could do for her. She was sent to Bright Horizons Orphanage but nobody wanted to adopt or foster her. She tended to lean towards violence when upset and nobody wanted a little that wasn’t fully regressed. The orphanage was weeks away from sending her to, Henderson’s Psychiatric Hospital for Littles where she’d most likely spend the rest of her life. When Marsha heard of the situation she immediately intervened. She knew that wasn’t what she needed and if they could just find a loving family to take her in, perhaps she could heal. Marsha wanted the Tischners to be that family. They were well off, loved by everyone, and Christian was a miracle worker when it came to littles. But the couple was wary at first. They wanted to help her but it sounded as if she was too late to be saved. They also had to think about Willa. She was their full-time responsibility and while they were pretty certain that she would never fall out of her headspace, they didn’t want to take the chance. Marsha remained optimistic though and wholeheartedly believed she could still be helped. The Tischners didn’t say no right away and slept on the decision for a few days before ultimately deciding they’d take her on. No little should have to suffer. They made a promise to each other that they wouldn’t let the girl’s care get in the way of their little Willa. They’d make sure Willa knew that she was still loved. They just would have a new family member now. She’d have a big sister. They sat in an office right off the front door. The sound of crying sounded from one end of the house and laughter from another. Just from their brief moment in the main room when they first entered, they were shocked. Littles ranging from all ages were crowded in several rooms. There were about forty littles in total that they had seen. The diapers were cheap and the clothes were obviously from second-hand stores. The toys they played with were falling apart. There was the strongest smell of dirty diapers and Marina couldn’t help but cover her nose. The house had definitely seen better days. It looked moments away from falling apart. They had known that orphanages were bad but they hadn’t expected this. Nobody wanted to end up in one. Littles who were abused, abandoned, or caregivers that had died were brought to places like this. The hospitals were only for the injured and for those who needed to be regressed which left everyone else in the dust. Most people didn’t like adopting from the orphanages because there was always something wrong with the littles. Most preferred the hospitals because they were all shiny, new, and well behaved. The stigma and bias against orphanage littles and hospital littles was a sad reality. Five minutes later a stern-looking woman entered the office. She had hard brown eyes, blonde hair cut into a bob cut, and pale skin. She was dressed for a day at the office instead of in a house full of littles. She wore a white blouse (which had somehow managed to stay clean) and blue jeans. “Thank you for your patience,” she said with the slightest English accent. The woman reached over to shake their hands as she sat down behind the desk. “My name is Anne Marie Whitmore. I’m the owner of Brighter Horizons. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” “The pleasure is ours,” Christian replied. Mrs. Whitmore curtly nodded her head, sliding over a vanilla folder with papers inside. She was not one for small talk. They jumped right into business. “I’m not going to lie. I was surprised to hear that you were interested in fostering. I’m aware of your accomplishments and how charitable you’ve been in the past but fostering a little-- especially this little is a huge responsibility.” It sounded as if she were doubting their capabilities. Of course, they knew that they had their skeptics. Some were determined to paint them in a negative light for every single thing they did, such as donating to charities and exposing Little Beginnings Hospital. Some believed that they had done it just to increase their fame, claiming they had, Caregiver Savior Complex: caregiver’s feeling the need to help sick and injured littles when it benefited them in some way. Of course, that wasn’t true but it still hurt that people thought that. “I’m aware that Ms. Mercer has alerted you to Olive May’s issues but inside the folder is a more formal and detailed report.” They opened it up and to say it wasn’t slightly overwhelming would be a lie. Christian was trained in caring for abused littles and had worked with them before but this was obviously going to be a whole new experience. The first page read: Babygirl, Olive May Sex: F DOB: 9/27/2003 Previous Name: Jessica Flannery Demographics Contact Information: Address: 42 Hickory Street, Brighter Horizons Orphanage, Henderson, WA, Email: Brighterhorizons@littlespace.net Phone: 92-334-1995 Little Space: Six months old to three years old Biological Age: 21 years old Regression Status: Incomplete Height: 5ft 1in Weight: 95lbs Nationality: Irish Dual Citizenship: United States Race: White Ethnic Group: Irish Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Blue Health Issues Chronic Constipation, PTSD, Anxiety, Anger issues, Malnourishment, Dehydration, Vitamin Deficiencies, Anemia, Muscle Atrophy, Selective Muteness, Claustrophobia: fear of small spaces, Nyctophobia: fear of the dark “As you can see her file is over twenty pages long,” said Mrs. Whitmore. “That’s the reason she’s listed as a high priority little. We will not let just anyone foster her.” The pages went on and on, going into more detail about her treatments, medicines, behaviors, etc. It would take a whole week to just read through every single detail. “What did the woman do to her?” Marina gulped with tears in her eyes. She’d heard these stories time and time again when working with patients but this hit different. It was a caregiver who hurt their little. Never in a million years would she ever lay a hand on Willa. The Tischners didn’t believe in corporal punishment. Not that they ever needed to punish her but if they did, they’d simply take away her plushie. That made her upset enough. “The details of her rescue and past living conditions are all in the folder.” she sighed, sadness hinted in her voice. “The trauma she’s been through has left her unable to communicate effectively. She’s constantly angry and fights against the regression. If she feels herself start to slip then she’ll begin hitting and scratching herself. We clipped her nails all the way down and placed her hands in mitts. The only effective punishments are time outs when she’s in an old enough headspace and when she is a younger, we take away her plushie--” “She has a favorite plushie?” he interrupted, surprised. If a little was having difficult regressing, usually the first things doctors did was give them a plushie. It always seemed to do the trick, no one knew why though. “Yes,” she nodded her head. “It’s a stuffed elephant and it’s attached to her hip at all times. She doesn’t let anyone else touch the thing.” That was a good sign. Usually if a little became attached to a plushie, they’d quickly fall into their little space but something was obviously blocking that from happening. She continued to tell them about her, the situation sounding more dire as she went on. Marina was starting to wonder if they were the right people for this job. But she knew they had to do it. “It’s not too late to back out, if you’re having second thoughts,” Mrs. Whitmore stared right at her as if sensing her thoughts. They shared a glance, grasping each other’s hand and said, “we’d like to continue with the fostering process. You’re not going to scare us off.” Her lips pursed and her brown eyes assessed them for a moment before saying, “very well. I believe it’s time to meet Miss Olive May.” ooOoo Author Notes: Hey everyone! This is part 2 of Willa’s story. As you can see a new character was introduced, some may remember a brief mention of her from part 1. You’ll see more of Willa in the other chapters and it will be heavily focused on the both of them. Hope you enjoy!

This is a story I posted not too long ago on the abdlstoryforum website, but I've decided to post it here while I lay down my roots and prepare a new story for the contest. I hope you all enjoy it and I can get some fresh eyes on it, it may not be perfect but I like it as an introduction to my writing style. I''ll be honest, I'm not trying to write A Tale of Two Cities here, just something a bit sexy some people can have some fun with. Any feedback you can give me would be appreciated, as well as any follows or... likes? If that is a thing here. Maybe it can at least get a few folks off. Anyway, please enjoy Kendra Takes Ethan by Eternal Futility Fiction. Kendra Takes Ethan The boredom was the worst part. There were no clocks or windows in the room where Ethan was kept, and the lights were always set at the same soft glow, making it impossible to estimate how much time had passed. He knew his captor always left him alone for several hours straight five days in a row, and from this he surmised that she must have a full time job. The idea of her going out, living a normal life, while he lay waiting in a thick, crinkling disposable diaper filled him with an impotent rage, which he had no way to release. For the first few weeks, whenever Ethan was left alone, he had pulled and struggled against his restraints, desperate to be free. He was young and strong, but that was not enough to stretch or break the thick leather strap across his chest. He was also denied the use of his hands, as they’d been locked securely into safety mittens since his first day of captivity, only ever taken off for his captor to trim his fingernails. The mittens themselves were clipped under another strap which held his hips in place, preventing him from moving his arms in the slightest. A final strap linked to a pair of padded ankle cuffs, which stopped him from rolling over or changing position. Even if by some miracle he managed to escape from these expertly applied restraints, he would have to find a way out of his “crib”, as his captor called it. Ethan considered it more of a cage, as he’d never seen a crib with a locking top, nor one built from such sturdy, hardened oak. Inevitably, his struggles would end with him sobbing quietly, wallowing in the helplessness and humiliation of his new life. He wanted to curl up, or at least hug himself across the chest, anything to offer himself a bit of comfort, but he was denied even this. The restraints were perfectly designed to keep him in the exact position his captor wanted, and no matter how hard he tried, he knew that she would return to find her new pet just as she left him. The only comfort he found would be bittersweet, as it came from his captor, the one who had confined him to this harrowing life of submission and monotony. Her cooing, doting and gentle caresses stirred up painfully conflicting feelings in the young man’s mind. She was the only other person he had seen in weeks, and he found himself craving her attention and accepting her pitying comments, as they were his only respite from his suffering and loneliness. But he also knew that she was the designer of this seemingly endless torture, and that accepting her reassurance was only playing into her hands, and that he was behaving exactly as she wanted him to. Such was her level of control. She wanted him to wear a diaper, and despite his struggles and protests, here he was in a diaper. She wanted him to remain in place in his crib while she was away, and he had no way to rebel against this decision. She wanted to perform his grooming herself, so of course, whenever his teeth needed brushing, face or body needed shaving, or he needed to be bathed, his hands would be kept well out of the way while she tended to him. And tend to him she did, ever so gently. Almost insultingly so, as if he were as fragile and valuable as a Ming vase. Perhaps he should be grateful for this, as he would have no means to defend himself if her desires were more sadistic or tortuous. In all his time here, she had never struck him, nor hurt him in anyway. She hadn’t even had to raise her voice. As she had complete control of every moment of his life, and was the only source he had for sustenance, simply withholding “privileges” was an effective enough method of control. A skipped meal or extra time sitting in a diaper in need of changing ensured enthusiastic compliance without the need for harsher methods. But the tenderness of her care was a double edged sword, igniting the flames of indignation and resentment that often washed over him in truly humiliating moments. “I am a grown man!” his mind would scream internally, as she gently ran her soft fingers over the baby powder covering his penis and testicles. The knowledge that he could take care of himself, but was trapped in a position where that was impossible was maddening. It was like he had driven into one of life’s dead ends, and he had no way to back out. Ethan writhed pointlessly in his restraints once more, and thought back bitterly to how this state of affairs came to be. If only he had gotten into that taxi! If only he had listened to his mind, rather than his cock! If only he had put up more resistance while he still had a chance… * * * “I’m telling you, if you play like you did today for the rest of the season, we might make it to the finals! Hell, we might even make it to Nationals!” Ethan grinned and looked over at his drunken teammate. Peter was much shorter than the rest of the players on the rugby team, but he was undeniably burly and stout, and had a contagious enthusiasm that Ethan respected. And Peter’s declaration wasn’t far from the truth. As head prop, Ethan used his considerable strength and endurance to gain the advantage in nearly every scrum. After a game like that, and after polishing off one too many celebratory beers at the college pub, Ethan was feeling on top of the world. He sat comfortably in the booth surrounded by his jubilant teammates, and ran his fingers through his close cropped brown hair. He had a habit of doing so often in social situations, as it gave him an opportunity to show off his biceps. He felt his musculature was his best asset when interacting with strangers. Although a well sculpted man, he tended to have anxiety in public places, especially around women. But all that anxiety disappeared when he was on the rugby field. “One game at a time, boys. The seasons only just begun,” Ethan replied. Peter waved a dismissive hand at Ethan’s modest response and shouted for the waitress to bring the team a tray of shooters. “Be pessimistic if you like, my friend. But tonight we’re celebrating. You should do the same. No practice in the morning, and there’s plenty of girls in here who saw the game today. I for one, don’t intend to leave this pub by myself.” And with that, Peter downed his shooter, and promptly walked away to strike up a conversation with two girls huddled close together at the bar. Ethan was jealous of Peter’s confidence when dealing with women. Although he was attractive and athletic himself, he always seemed to get tongue-tied and make a fool of himself when he tried to flirt. But perhaps tonight would be different. Peter was right, many of the women in the pub had likely seen him excel on the field today, and perhaps he could parlay that into a one-night-stand. Downing his own shooter, Ethan hesitated, then grabbed a second one, which one of his teammates had declined. A few drinks should help serve as social lubrication, he reasoned. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur, with lots of laughing with his teammates, plenty of libations, and several drunken conversations with the women attending the pub, some more successful than others. He felt confident talking with Alice, a blonde nursing major wearing a short summer dress, but she left quite early, rebuffing his clumsy offer to walk her home. Later he met Kendra, a tall, dark beauty who seemed a few years older, dressed in what Ethan recognized as expensive clothing. She sipped slowly at her drink, and listened to Ethan’s attempts to boast about his athletic prowess on the field today. She was quite tall for a woman, only a few inches shy of Ethan’s six foot frame, and her tasteful but flirty outfit showed off her curves marvellously. When her dark eyes locked with his, even in his drunken state, he felt his heart flutter. “That’s adorable sweetie,” she said, a sly smile playing across her face. From that response, Ethan realized he had little chance of seducing Kendra, so he awkwardly dismissed himself, and wished her a good night. His teammates gradually started leaving the pub as the night wore on, some with a partner for the night, some without, as Ethan continued drinking and trying his luck with more girls. However, he had passed the tipping point between the drinks giving him confidence, and his drunkenness impeding his judgement. The next hour or so was blurry in his mind, until a woman splashing her drink in his face brought him back to reality. He wasn’t even sure what he had said to offend her, but when he saw the bouncer approaching, he decided it was time to cut his losses and leave. He half-stumbled out of the pub into the street, sat down on the curb, and used his smartphone to summon a taxi. Too exhausted to even be frustrated by his failure, or embarrassed by his actions at the end of the night, he leaned his head on one hand and dozed, waiting for the cab to show up. He was awoken suddenly, by a gentle voice very close to him. “Honey, do you have a way to get home?” Startled, and blinking in confusion, Ethan looked up to see Kendra kneeling down close to him. He struggled to respond. “Yehh… I’ve got cab. A cab coming.” His head was spinning, and he just wanted to wait for his cab in peace, but Kendra stayed kneeling close to him, close enough that he could smell the soft perfume she was wearing. “Sweetie, why don’t you let me give you a lift? Hmm? You could save a little money, and we could… talk a bit” Kendra said with her same sly smile, and began gently rubbing Ethan’s back. At the contact, Ethan immediately began to get aroused. Right on cue, his taxi pulled up and screeched to a halt. The driver rolled down the window. “You Ethan?” the cab-driver called out impatiently. A long, fateful moment passed before Ethan made the worst mistake of his life. “No.” * * * As Kendra drove her luxurious SUV through the silent streets, she kept talking and flirting with the boy in an effort to keep him awake. She wondered how aware the boy was that she hadn’t asked where he lived, perhaps he thought she was taking him back to her place for a night of casual sex. She smirked at the thought. Although the boy was good looking, she was certainly not attracted to him in a carnal manner. He was too sweet, too innocent too… cute, in the way a puppy or small child might be. She had something else in mind for him. His replies to her attempts at conversation were becoming shorter, more slurred as she got closer to her neighborhood. This would not do, she needed him alert enough to walk into her house without a fuss, and without anyone seeing. Upon stopping at a red light, she rested her right hand on the boy’s inner thigh and leaned in close to him. “Poor baby, you seem all tuckered out. Are you too sleepy to play? I have so many fun things planned for you, it would be a shame if you missed out.” The boy shifted in his seat excitedly, and Kendra felt his member stiffen through his jeans, and gently brushed against it as she pulled her hand away. It was amazing how much more alert he became from such a minor action. Men were such simple creatures. “It’ll take more than a few drinks to keep me from a beauty like you Kendra… I’m going to give you a real night to remember,” Ethan said, a little more steadily than before. Kendra smiled. Ethan didn’t know how right he was. * * * As the SUV arrived at Kendra’s impressive home, Ethan looked up in wonderment. The whole property was surrounded by an immense, neatly tended hedge, and the long driveway was blocked off by a high, black gate. The house itself was massive, and had the look of one of the old Victorian estates common in the area, but much more modernized. “Quite a place you got here…” Ethan mumbled, as they pulled into the driveway and the electronic gate closed behind them. “Yes it is sweetie… Yes it is. Now come on, let’s get you inside,” responded Kendra, still wearing that sly smile. Ethan managed to stumble up to the entrance of the mansion, and Kendra unlocked the door, let herself and the boy in, and then shut it behind them. As he heard the door lock, some small part of his mind began to feel uneasy. But his excitement about his impending night of pleasure with Kendra stifled any fears, and when she took his hand and started leading him upstairs, he meekly followed. Once inside Kendra’s lavishly decorated bedroom, Ethan placed his hand on Kendra’s waist and tried to lean in for a kiss, only to be rebuffed, with Kendra reaching out and gently stroking his cheek. “Naughty boy… You need to slow down. Let’s get you undressed first.” Ethan smiled and blushed at Kendra’s kinky statement. He had never been one for freaky sex, much more preferring vanilla encounters, with him in control of the situation. But he was no prude, and if this is what turned Kendra on, he was happy to oblige. As Ethan reached down to pull his shirt off, Kendra grasped each of his hands gently, and stared into his eyes. He couldn’t help but melt under her gaze, something about her dark eyes were so persuasive, so… powerful. “Baby, let me take care of that for you.” And with that, Kendra began slowly and gently undressing Ethan, until he stood only in his boxer-briefs, his intense arousal made obvious by his member straining against the fabric. “Ohhh, looks like my boy is VERY excited… I know just how to take care of that.” She gently slid down his underwear, exposing his impressive cock. Kendra was somewhat surprised, given his meek, almost childlike personality, she expected something smaller. Having kneeled down to remove his last shred of clothes, Kendra looked up at Ethan, her face inches away from his cock, making him shudder in anticipation. “My, my… What a big boy you are. But are you a good boy?” Ethan was surprised by the question. Was this some kind of kinky roleplay? He was a bit too drunk and exhausted to keep up, but he found himself nodding, his arousal making him feel very suggestible. “You are? Well that’s good sweetie! Very good. Because good boys follow instructions. Can you follow my instructions like a good boy?” As drunk as he was, Ethan once again felt uneasiness creep into his mind. It seemed Kendra was much kinkier than he was, but even so, he felt himself nodding his head, desperate for the gorgeous woman before him to relieve his aching cock. “You will? What a very good boy! I’ll keep it very simple for you, baby, since I know you’re not at you best. I want you to lie down on your back on the middle of the bed, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Ethan was all too eager to oblige, scurrying over to her king-sized bed and positioning himself in the middle, his cock pointing up in the air like a desperate flag pole. Even with Kendra’s peculiar kinky games, at least it seemed he was finally going to get the release he so craved. As Kendra climbed onto the bed after him, his suspicion seemed to be confirmed. She got on her hands and knees over his prone body, still fully clothed, lining up her eyes with his. His cock strained to towards her, but she kept herself just out of reach. As she stared deeply into his eyes, Ethan sensed affection, warmth and… pity? Before he could process that, he felt her grasp his hands, and slowly and gently raise them up above his head. He heard a small click, and then another, and felt something tighten around each of his wrists. With annoyance, Ethan realized he had been handcuffed to the bed. “All right Kendra, that’s enough. I’m into you and everything... but all this kinky shit is a bit much for me.” “Shhhh…” whispered Kendra, putting her finger to Ethan’s lips. “I know it’s scary, sweetie. But remember, you promised to be a good boy.” Ethan had had enough, aching cock or not. “Forget this. Un-cuff me right now, I’m calling a cab and getting the hell out of here.” Kendra looked genuinely saddened by Ethan’s words. “Poor boy… You don’t understand.” She turned and slipped off of the bed, opening the drawer of her bedside table. “I understand fine! And if you don’t un-cuff me right now, I’ll- Mmmph!” Kendra quickly and expertly applied the ball-gag to the restrained boy. It would be necessary for a while, until he adjusted to his new circumstances. She moved to the foot of the bed, leaned her hands on the mattress, and stared up past the boy’s still straining cock, straight into his terrified eyes. “No baby, you DON’T understand. I saw you marching around the pub tonight, thinking that just because you played some silly game well today that you were entitled to sex. But I looked closely at you, and I saw something. Something important. Trying to get girls to sleep with you didn’t come naturally. It was a learned behaviour, one you were quite poor at, by the way. I think you were just following the lead of your peers, trying to impress them. I think deep down, you’re just an innocent little boy, who doesn’t have the capacity to judge right or wrong. Someone who needs the right decisions made for them. Isn’t that right?” Ethan grunted into the ball gag in response, and struggled against the handcuffs. “Shhhh, baby. It’s all right. You don’t need to be worried, or afraid, or angry. You don’t need to be anything anymore, other than a good boy.” Ethan was truly terrified now, the adrenaline pumping through his system cutting through any drunkenness. He watched as Kendra walked across the room and picked up a small bag full of items that he couldn’t quite make out. “You’re going to be a good boy from now on, baby. My good boy. The good boy you were always meant to be,” Kendra said softly, as if breaking difficult news to a small child. As she spoke, she pulled an item out of the bag which caused Ethan to enter a renewed fit of thrashing and grunting. She set the disposable diaper down on the foot of the bed, and took a moment to relish in the sight of the terrified, helpless boy panicking in front of her. And Kendra let him panic for a while. She was in no rush. She had all the time in the world. Stay tuned for Chapter 2, as poor Ethan endures the first few days of his new life!

PROLOGUE 18 year old Cassie Smith is living a normal life until one day everything becomes different. She ends up being taken captive by a former classmate named Clark because she did not go out with him during high school. Clark ends up forcing Cassie to become a little girl in order to humiliate her for not going out with him during high school as well as for payback for her making fun of him in high school. I will be working on this story and maybe a couple more while still updating New Girl in School as well as working on another story. As always, I am open to all feedback. Feel free to either PM me or comment your feedback below. Hope you enjoy! :) CHAPTER 1: GRADUATION *Ring Ring* I jolt awake as I hear my alarm go off. It is June 4th, 2017, today is the day. Finally done with school, the day I get to walk that stage and officially be done. No more classes, no more homework, no more being made fun of for being short (I am really short for my age, I am 4 foot 11, which I got made fun of a lot throughout school), all I have to worry about is working at the humane society. I love my job, I really do, but I’ll admit, adding school on top of my job, it can be very stressful. As I get up out of bed, I jump into the shower to start getting ready for the day. As I finish with my shower, I put on my clothes that I will be wearing underneath my cap and gown. Underneath my cap and gown, I will be wearing a nice, but not too fancy, red dress and some converse. Once I finished getting dressed, I head downstairs to go make some eggs, bacon, and pancakes. As I finish making and eating breakfast, I grab my cap and gown and start walking to the high school. Yes, I am 18 and I don’t have a car, it’s tough having to walk everywhere. My parents say I have to buy my own car, but with taking a lot of AP classes this year, I have not been able to work enough to rack up enough money to buy a car. Once I got to the school, I put on my cap and gown and head into the gym to meet up with everyone else where we are doing a mini rehearsal before the actual graduation ceremony. The rehearsal went well, as usual, now it is time for the real thing. As we finished up with the rehearsal, we went outside where we walked to our assigned chairs. Everybody was organized alphabetically so it was easy to find our seats. As we took our seats, the principal of the school spoke, welcoming the parents and family members who are attending today’s graduation. Once the principal was done giving his little speech, he gave the microphone to one of the teachers who are announcing the names of the students as they walk across the stage. As I am waiting in line to cross the stage for what seems like hours as names are being announced, I hear “Cassandra Smith”. As I am walking across the stage, everyone starts cheering and clapping. As I finish crossing the stage, I grab my diploma and start heading back to my assigned chair to wait until everyone else’s name is called off. Once everyone’s name was called off, we made a giant circle and threw our caps into the air as our theme song was playing in the background. Once the song was done, I met up with my family and we took photos of me in my cap and gown for memories. Once we were done taking photos, we headed to a semi-nice location to have lunch with my family members who came to my graduation and ate lunch. Once we were done with lunch, we headed back to the house. The day was quickly ending and it was already 8pm. I needed to get ready for work because I had to get to the Humane Society early tomorrow to head to work. I then got all of my work things together, and got ready for bed. Once I finished getting ready for bed, I laid down and quickly fell asleep.

So while I was working on Chapter 4 of my other story "Babied By The Sitter" (still being worked on by the way) I had this idea and it was so good I thought it deserved it's own story. This story will serve as sorta an easier to write faster-paced story with a lot more sexual content right out the gate. It'll also help me have something to write for when "Babied By The Sitter" is giving me writers block. I hope you enjoy this story and as with all my stories feel free to download, modify, redistribute this story however you like. ====Chapter 1==== I was walking through the forest trying to find my way back to the lodge. I got distracted and accidentally went off course while hiking and I'm worried I might not make it back in time, especially since it's starting to get dark. I don't have the slightest clue where I'm going, everything looks the same. Trees to the left, trees to the right, trees everywhere. And they're all the same exact type of tree, Maybe if mother nature would mix it up a bit once and awhile I wouldn't be in this situation. Eventually I just picked a random direction and started walking, hoping I'd either make it back to the lodge or find a road that would lead somewhere. After what felt like hours of walking I broke down, sat by a near by tree and started quietly sobbing to myself.. I had no way to get back home and these woods were so large the chances of someone actually finding me would be very unlikely. "What's wrong little one? Are you lost?" An unfamiliar voice asked. I looked up and it was a women, she had long light brown hair, huge breasts and she was certainly the tallest women I ever saw, she was a regular giantess. I must've looked like a literal child to her. "I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I got distracted and got off course. I have no idea where the lodge is." I replied, wiping the tears off my face. "Aww you poor thing! Come here, you can stay with me for the night." The women picked me up and draped me over her shoulder like you would an infant. "Uhm, I can actually walk myself.... miss....." I said awkwardly "Emily, and I figured as much, but you're so little it'd probably take you forever to catch up with me and I'd rather not have to keep stopping just so you could catch up, it's easier this way." Emily said to me, bouncing me up and down like you would a cranky baby. After a few minutes of walking we reached Emily's cabin in the woods. Once we were inside Emily took me to the guest room and put me down on the floor. "You must be tired, so I'll leave you here to rest for the night. I'll help you get to the hiking lodge in the morning." Emily smiled handing me a glass of milk before walking out of the room, closing the door behind her. The guest room was nothing special, just a small room with a bed, nightstand and a dresser, more than enough to suite the average guest. I dropped my backpack on the floor, drank the glass of milk, placing the empty glass on the nightstand and passed out on the bed. I woke up to find Emily at the foot of the bed putting a diaper on me. "What's going on here?" I said confused and slightly startled. I tried to squirm away but my body was strapped to the bed. "Aw did I wake you up sweetheart? Mommy was just putting a diaper on you. I thought you already had one on, but when I came to check on you, you didn't." Emily said putting on the last pieces of tape. "I'm not a baby! I don't need a diaper." I said, still trying to keep my composure, since this giantess did let me stay at her place and she might just genuinely be confused, since from her point of view I probably do look pretty infantile. "It's okay Honey you don't need to pretend to be a big boy for Mommy." Emily reached into her bra and took out a Baby's Pacifier. "Now open wide. Mommy has something yummy for you." Emily moved the Pacifier towards my lips. Instantly I clamped my mouth shut, turned my head away "I wish you wouldn't fuss so. I'm just doing what's best for you." Emily started rubbing the front of my diaper. I couldn't help but moan from the stimulation Emily was putting on my penis, which caused my mouth to open uncontrollably just enough for Emily to shove in the Pacifier and tie the straps around my head. "There's a good boy. Don't you feel much better now that you have your paci? I bet you do. Now give it a good suck." Emily instructed still stimulating my penis through my diaper. "Nuhuh" I said muffled through the pacifier shaking my head in refusal. "Okay sweetie, I tried being nice, but if you're going to continue being fussy you're going to have to be punished." Emily untapped two pieces of tape at the very front of my diaper, revealing a crotch hole. Emily fished my penis out through the crotch hole and slipped a cylindrical device onto it, placing two sticker-probes to my balls which attached to the cylindrical device via wires. I tried to let out a yell but all that could be heard was a muffled "MMMMMMMM." Pressing a few buttons on the device Emily made the small LCD screen on the front of the device go from 000 to 024. Instantly the machine started to stimulate my penis, causing me to moan and squirm uncontrollably. "I'll leave baby to his new toy for a little while." Emily said before walking out of the room. I don't understand it, 'what exactly is the punishment here?' I thought to myself. This machine just keeps stimulating my penis, which will just lead to a pleasurable climax. what's the punishment in that? Well just as I was about to reach climax.... the machine stopped. I just sat there strapped to the bed moaning and squirming, both because I wanted out of this situation and because I wanted some release. After my penis got a little softer the machine turned back on and started stimulating me again. After the 3rd time the machine restarted I started sucking on the pacifier in my mouth to distract me from the absolute misery of not being able to reach orgasm. The pacifier did actually help comfort me, it didn't completely remove the sexual frustration induced by the machine, but it certainly helped reduce it. Several minutes later Emily walked back into the room. The machine had started and stopped about 12 times at this point. "Is baby enjoying his special toy?" Emily walked over to me. As soon as Emily saw that I was sucking on the Pacifier her stern facial expression turned into a happy loving smile "Oh good, baby is sucking his paci like a good boy! Well in that case I think the machine has done it's job." Emily turned off the machine and disconnected it. "That's just one of the many punishments I have for little boys who don't do as their told. So if I were you I'd start being a little more cooperative." Emily patted my diapered butt. "Now I'm going to go back to bed. Goodnight baby." Emily left the room, shutting the door and turning off the light on her way out. I furiously started jerking my body against the restraints shortly after Emily left the room, hoping that I could either squirm out of the straps that kept me tied to the bed or that I could rip the straps somehow and manage to escape. I just kept thrashing and jerking my body trying my absolute best to escape the situation I was in nomatter how tired I got I persisted. Until I heard a snap. The straps restraining me to the bed finally snapped, allowing me to take the Pacifier out of my mouth and take off the diaper that Emily put on me against my will while I was sleeping. Everything was working according to plan up until I tried to take the diaper off, not only could I not take it off, but when I tried a loud beeping sound started going off. I could hear footsteps approaching the guest room, I began sweating profusely. I don't know this women or what she's capable of, from her size alone she could probably snap me like a twig without even breaking a sweat. As the door creaked open the sound coming from the diaper got even louder *BEEP BEEP BEEP*. "Did baby try to mess with his diaper?" Emily asked slowly moving towards me as I backed myself into a wall. "Don't be scared baby, I wont hurt you and neither will the alarm. I can see I wont be able to keep you in the guest room, there's way too much you could hurt yourself on in here." Emily scooped me up and started rubbing the front of my diaper slowly, causing the alarm to turn off and me to get an erection. "It's okay baby, Mommy knows you didn't mean to be naughty, but don't worry, Mommy is going to move you into a room that's far safer." Emily stuck her finger in my mouth, preventing me from talking as she took me down the hall into a room with a sign saying "Nursery" on the door. Instantly I was greeted with baby stuff as far as the eye could see, there was a shelf full of various baby things, bottles, pacifiers, diapers and even a bunch of items I had never seen or heard of before. "Okay baby, this will be your new room." Emily placed me in a large metal baby crib replacing her finger with a pacifier, which she strapped around my head. "That'll keep you quiet while I prepare your nighttime paci." Emily said picking up a baby bottle full of a milk-like substance. Emily then took another pacifier off the shelf unscrewed the end cap and screwed in the baby bottle into it. Not really a fan of the idea of drinking whatever it is that liquid in the bottle was I looked around to see if there was any possible way out of the crib I was in. The crib had a roof so I couldn't climb it and the metal bars made breaking it almost impossible, it looks like If I want to get out of here I need to be out of this crib first. Emily walked over to me with the milk filled pacifier in hand. With ease she held me still, took the pacifier out of my mouth and replaced it with the milk filled pacifier, strapping it to my head so I couldn't spit it out. "That's it baby give your nighttime paci a nice suckle." Emily tied my body to the crib making the possibility of escaping that much more difficult. Milk slowly dripped into my mouth even without me sucking on the pacifier due to small holes allowing a slow drip feed of milk to continuously flow into my mouth. "Be sure to drink it all, it's good for you. I'll see you in the morning and when I do all that milk better be gone." Emily walked out of the room turning off the light and closing the door behind her. There I was, alone, strapped to this huge metal crib with a pacifier strapped to my head, slowly drip-feeding me milk whether I sucked on it or not and to make things worse my body was tied to the crib so there was no way I could escape. Without even noticing it I had started sucking on the pacifier in my mouth for comfort, which caused the steady drip of milk to turn into a steady stream instead. I wasn't even half-way finished with the liquid in the pacifier before my eyes started to feel very heavy all of a sudden. I tried with all my might to keep my eyes open and to keep myself awake, but my sudden urge to sleep got the better of me and I passed out in the crib still sucking on the pacifier. ******* Emily was watching Daniel from the comfort of her computer desk. She had over thirty surveillance cameras scattered across the whole house, five of which were in the nursery. "Aww baby's all tuckered out, I don't blame him he's had a big day and it way past his bed time. The poor thing needs some sleep. Good thing Mommy Emily gave him some milk to help relax him. Hopefully he finishes all of it by the time I check on him tomorrow morning, otherwise I'll have to punish him again and I'd sure hate to have to do that." Emily giggled. ====End Of Chapter 1==== Well there's chapter 1 of Emily's Cabin. I hope you enjoyed it. I'd absolutely love to see what you guys have to say! Chapter 4 of "Babied By The Sitter" is in the works as well as Chapter 2 of this story. I've also attached the unreleased 4th chapter of Babied By The Sitter which eventually turned into this story for you to read, kinda as a special treat Babied By The Sitter Unreleased Chapter 4 Emily's Cabin ~ A Kasarberang Story

I watched from my front room window as the delivery men unloaded their removal lorry and transported the various objects into next door. I could not see who the new owner was, just the amount of furniture and boxes that were being taken into the house. Several days passed before I noticed her as I pulled up onto my driveway, my new neighbour was collecting a newspaper from her postbox. She was in her mid to late forties bobbed brown hair and was wearing a silver silk dressing gown, not leaving much to the imagination. “Hi nice to meet you, my names PJ,” I said introducing myself. My new neighbour replied with a smile. “Hi there PJ, I’m Cathy,” she said holding out her hand. I lightly shook her hand to greet her. From that point we started to chat regularly whenever we bumped into each other. I established that Cathy was now single and maybe been through some kind of breakup, but I didn’t push the issue and enjoyed the fact that I had not inherited a nightmare neighbour, but a friendly one. As the weeks went by I didn’t really speak with Cathy a great deal. I did however get a strange feeling that I was being watched by her (I didn’t have any proof and never saw her.) But, whenever I went to go out or returned I just had a funny feelings he was watching me. Cathy had moved to the area for a fresh start. She had not long broken up with someone that she had been seeing, but that was not the reason, Cathy was in fact the one that had called the relationship off. No, Cathy had moved to a new area so that she could initiate a life long dream. It was no coincidence that she had moved in next door to PJ, she had been stalking him for months. After purchasing the property she had ensured that all the necessary improvements had been completed before moving in, now the time had come to commence. BANG! BANG! BANG! My front door echoed. I had just got out of the shower and dried myself. Pulling on a pair of shorts I hurried downstairs to open the door. Stood in front of me was a frantic and slightly upset Cathy dressed in her silver silk dressing gown. “Oh PJ, please come quick something’s happening in my basement, please help me!” Cathy said while wiping a tear with a tissue. Unsure of what to expect I slipped on my trainers and grabbed a baseball bat and followed Cathy. “What is it?” I asked as we hurried to Cathy’s house. Once inside the front door Cathy shut it behind me, “I need you to look downstairs for me, please?” Cathy pleaded as she pointed to a wooden staircase. “Ok!” I responded as I gripped my bat and proceeded to head down the stairs towards a dark door at the bottom. Cathy was following me in close proximity. Upon reaching the lower floor I put my had to the door handle and pushed it down, simultaneously pushing the door open into the dark filled room. I edged in with Cathy still close behind me. Suddenly lights above my head were on and I was momentarily blinded by there brightness. Cathy’s plan had gone well this far and had managed to get her potential victim into position. After flicking on the light switch she grabbed a sealed see through bag from the side cabinet next to the doorway and opened it. She retrieved the thick white paper handkerchiefs that she had prepared earlier that were laced with her special chloroform concoction. I was stunned when my eyes adjusted to the light and I could see what was before me. The bright white tiled walled room was full to the brim with equipment. My brain was struggling to process what was laid before me. An adult sized cot, a changing table, large rocking horse, shower, glasses front cabinets upon cabinets full of items. I just didn’t understand why this would be here. I turned to ask Cathy what was going on. However at this point With the thick paper hankies firmly in her right hand Cathy circled my neck and applied them over my mouth and nose. “Mmmmmmppppppphhhffff,” I cried as the thick white crisp tissues formed a gag around my face. I was obviously in shock and dropped the baseball bat as Cathy expertly clamped the paper hankies over my mouth and nose. I inhaled almost instantly and was hit by the chemical smell that was held within. “Mmmmpppphhhhhfff” I cried again as I grabbed hold of Cathy’s hand holding the paper hankies in place. Cathy was well prepared for my attempt of escape and quickly used her knee to push into the small of my back to knock me off balance. As I found myself falling backwards into my assailant I inhaled again. This time the chemical within the tissues had Cathy’s desired effects and caused my head start to spin. I desperately started to struggle now, as I lay collapsed on the floor with Cathy directly behind me supporting my head and holding my hands away with one hand, whilst holding the thick paper hankies over my face with her other. “Mmmmppppppjhhhfff,” I complained as Cathy looked into my eyes. “Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh! Baby it’s ok, mummy is going to take good care of you. Just relax and breathe in mummy’s special medicine Cathy responded as the drug started to really take effect. My head was spinning, my eyes were starting to blur, why would Cathy do this to me? I don’t have a lot of money and definitely do not have anyone who would pay a ransom. But what I didn’t know is Cathy know exactly who I was, she had done her homework and I was ‘her choice’ candidate. Drugged and confused I continued to struggle against my abductress, but this was in vain. Cathy now had me exactly where she wanted me. On the floor, the drug laced tissues in place and going nowhere! “Mmmppphhff” I cried again trying to question why, but Cathy was not moved. “It’s ok precious, mummy has planned this for a long time, you just need to be a good boy and go night nights! I know you don’t want too, but mummy knows best sweetheart, just relax baby and everything will be just fine, I promise!” Cathy stated as my eyes were now glasses over and I was falling into a drugged slumber. “Gooooood booooooy!”Cathy said as I drifted off into la la land.

Jax was a typical college student who enjoyed going out to party’s and hanging with his friends rather then staying at his dorm to study. What he didn’t know was that for the past few weeks he had someone watching his every move waiting for the right time to make their move. Jax was dressed up in a pair of dark blue faded skinny jeans and a grey T-shirt with a pair of sneakers. He had left the safety of his dorm and headed down the streets as he was walking to a local party just a few blocks away, the sun had just set as the street lights were all starting to light up along the side walk.

Miles didn't know where he could possibly be; he was gagged, blindfolded, and wet with his own pee, that much he could understand. He struggled against the straps keeping his midsection locked to the surface he now lay upon, but they only tightened further with each movement. When his wet clothing was unceremoniously stripped off his body, someone spoke, but he couldn't make anything out. The blindfold, the gag, and the restraints digging into his stomach were so uncomfortable they made him want to scream. Through the gag, he let out a series of muffled screams, straining against his bonds and trying desperately to speak. His muffled babbling made drool trickle down his chin, and he whined, shifting about as he heard someone walking, shoes clicking against tile. The man reached out for what he didn't yet understand was a mobile that played music above his head, where he lay flat on his back, held fast by straps that grounded him to the spot. He was cold, uncomfortable, and nothing made sense. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he writhed, reaching up in search of something familiar, for someone who would free him from this strange nightmare. "Gaaghaa!" An incoherent cry was all that escaped his lips as the mysterious person lifted his legs, powdering him and oiling his privates before setting his legs back down. That was when the new arrival spoke, this time loud enough for Miles to make out every syllable...

Laura Wilson was against the whole idea of taking a little girl from her home, but her brother-in-law insisted that she either help them pull off this job, or he would get her even more involved in their plots than she already was.